A Little Change
by totalqt16
Summary: It's four years into the future, and a now fourteen-year-old Timmy Turner finds himself struggling with the unspeakable-ly horrible prospect of ... "feelings." Can Wanda convince him that there's nothing wrong with a little change in perspective? TimXToot


**My first FOP fanfic – so go easy on me, alright! **

**Alright, fine – DON'T play nice – I'd rather receive an honest review than a nice one – I love Tootie – she's a little creepy, but she gives the rest of us stalkers who are dreaming of love a chance to feel normal. **

**Trixie can go lick a fork!**

**ooo**

_Easy, Turner, just take it easy. _The thought springing upward, as the pink-clad teenager struggled to maintain a steady intake of breath, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he hung his legs nonchalantly off the edge of his bed – which-so happened to be floating a good 12 inches off of it's previous position on the floor below (the un-intentional work of his "god-brother").

_Inhale_.

The lids of his closed eyes, twitching slightly as a massive collection of _unwanted _thoughts flooded his mind.

The way her _hair _looked today – grown out long, and free of the set of ties which had kept it in a set of pigtails for all of the previous years that he'd known her. It looked _shiny _and ... _soft_.

She'd ditched the glasses too.

The deep blue of her eyes no longer hidden behind thick, childish, rims.

_Blue_. He'd noticed what _color _they were.

Guys, weren't _supposed _to notice that stuff – I was a _rule_! – scrawled out messily onto the ancient, guarded, imaginary toilet paper that could be found the brain of every guy other in the universe – but him.

He'd _broken_ that rule, for _Tootie _of all people.

"Hiya, Timmy!" chimed Cosmo, oblivious to the boy's current state. "Up for a game of _Crash Nebula _– you'll be surprised at my skills ..." He boasted pulling off a look of superiority, as he floated before his god-child, pretending to polish his knuckles. "Yours truly, made it all the way to level _one_ — and let me tell _you_, it wasn't easy finding the 'Start' button."

"No thanks."

"The ... not-study game?"

"Nah."

"... Wanna try some 'a my head-jelly – I'm pretty sure it's _raspberry _this time ... hmmm – _Rasberry_?"

"Not hungry."

The fairy merely shrugs, placing his index finger into the bottomless cavern that was his ear. After removing the last drop of the sticky, head-filled condiment off of his finger tip – he began to notice that something wasn't right.

"Oh, _I _seeeee!" Cosmo chimed again, arching his brow. "Struck out with _Trixie _again, didya? Well, Timothy – I believe the French have a saying, 'When in doubt ... fry up some bacon!'"

At this conclusion, a pan of bacon instantly appeared the fairy's hand – the creature whistles gleefully right before a patch a grease rose from the sizzling utensil and, landed in his cornea.

Timmy watched in both un-interest and amazement, as Cosmo circled around the room frantically, looking for a source of relief – _Trixie? Who _was _she again_?

Suddenly, a sigh could be heard from a once empty corner of the room, and a bag stuffed with ice appeared right in the path of the screaming Cosmo – he held it to his searing eye, sighing in comfort.

"You _do _seem down-in-the-dumps, sport." said Wanda, releasing a cooing Poof, the usual hint of a mother's concern in her voice, as she drifted away from the now, pain-free moron that was her husband, and toward the disgruntled boy. "Anything, _I _can help with?"

"Not exactly, Wanda." Timmy sighed, "To be honest ... I'm not sure _what_ the problem is."

"Crocker fail you again?" offered Cosmo, now having produced an entire iceberg to shield his eye – as Poof giggled, gleefully, tossing the currently melted ice pack into the air – spraying bits of water everywhere.

"It's, it's just I feel ..."

Wanda nodding, understanding in her eyes – while beyond her shoulder Cosmo wrestled with his son for the bag of water.

"... different." Timmy concluded.

"Different ... _how_." nudged, the pink fairy.

"It's ... It's just ..." the boy stammered lamely.

Wanda raised a flush eyebrow. "It's got something to do with a girl doesn't it?"

"Well, yeah ... but ..."

"She the girl that you _never _thought you'd learn to like?"

"... yeah ..."

"The one you _never _let into your tree-house?"

"... y-yeah, maybe."

"She the one that allowed you to experience 'guilt' for the first time? – the one you gave up your _Crimson Chin _for?"

The boys, sighs – defeated. "Yeah."

"Oh, Timmy!" Wanda cried. "It's perfectly _normal _to feel that way!"

"Wanda, I ..."

"You're a _big _boy, now – with lots of 'big boy' thoughts ... and feelings ... and _smells_ ... Just, _look_!" Her delicate fingers nudge slightly at his forearm, ushering him to raise it – revealing ...

"Yuck! I _still _think armpit hair's _gross_!"

"It's _wonderful _— a complete change in perspective ...!" Wanda gushes, ignoring his last statement. "You've fallen for _Tootie_!"

The 'death-glare' Timmy positions toward his god-mother is somewhat weakened by his crimson blush

"Oh, _sport_!" Wanda cries, enveloping her god-child in a crushing hug, and floating toward the ceiling – dropping him pointedly on the mattress below. "I always knew you'd realize how _sweet _she is!"

"Yeah ..." puffs Timmy, his face a light-blue color – "... great ... now can you ... re-inflate ... my lungs?"

At least with more oxygen, 'affairs of the heart' would seem less complicated.


End file.
